


Take The Edge Off

by xxCat1989xx



Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Headaches & Migraines, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 18:33:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10224470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxCat1989xx/pseuds/xxCat1989xx
Summary: He’d had the worst day ever.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Meh. Today has sucked. Woke up with a headache and really can't be bothered to deal with the day anymore. Wrote this as soon as I could look at the screen without being sick and I'm not entirely happy with it, but I needed to write fluff and I'm posting it anyway.
> 
> Unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine.
> 
> Love you all <3

He’d had the worst day ever.

It started when Mitch had woken up at 6am on their day off, head hurting so bad he’d thought he was going to throw up from the pain. When he’d managed to drag his aching body out of bed, ignoring the room spinning around him, and located some painkillers, all they did was take the edge off. He was still wincing at every noise, squinting his eyes as light flooded every room in the house.

It was torture.

He had sat on the sofa nursing a cup of tea until he could drag his weary body into the shower, hoped the hot water would ease the tension in his shoulders. It didn’t. He put on his comfiest sweatpants and oversized hoodie afterwards and dragged a blanket back into the living room, curled up into a ball on the sofa and tried to nap, tried to at least get some rest in the hopes that when he woke up again, the pain would have eased.

An hour later it was evident that the pain was not going to go away anytime soon, so rather than waste a whole day, a day Mitch had planned meticulously that involved shopping, a manicure and a late dinner by himself, he changed his clothes, tried to put some effort into his appearance and left the house, large sunglasses covering his eyes. He was determined to make the most of his downtime.

He made it through two shops before he gave up. He cancelled his manicure and grabbed a cold sandwich to eat when he got home; knew there was no way he’d safely be able to cook something for himself when he couldn’t stand up straight and his vision was swimming in and out of focus.

As Mitch got through the front door and trudged up the stairs to his room, his phone pinged in his pocket.

 _Scott <3: _Hey queen, want to come out with us girls tonight?

He smiled to himself. He was glad at least one of them was having a good day, however, the thought of leaving the house again was too much. He’d text back as such before changing back into his sweatpants and curled up on the sofa again with a bottle of water and box of graham crackers, nausea still gripping at his stomach after one sniff of the sandwich.

Within ten minutes his phone had pinged again.

 _Scott <3_: Oh, boo, what’s wrong?

 _Mitch:_ Head hurts.

 _Scott <3_: Okay. I’m coming home.

 _Mitch:_ No. Go out with Lindsey and everyone. I’m just going to watch a movie and go to bed.

That was a few hours ago, and now Mitch’s lying on the sofa, stroking a hand up and down Wyatt’s back from where he’s sleeping on his chest. His head still hurts; the last set of painkillers not even taking the edge off anymore. The sound is turned down on the TV, eyes struggling to focus on what he’s watching, so he’s just staring into the distance, colours flicking across the screen out of the corner of his eye.

He jumps slightly when the front door opens and closes.

Mitch counts the footsteps on the stairs, and then his best friend comes into view.

“Hey. How’re you feeling?” Scott whispers, peering at him over the back of the sofa. A paper bag crinkles in his left hand as he leans over the sofa, elbows propping him up. His forehead is pulled down into a frown and his lips are downturned into a grimace to match the one Mitch knows is on his face.

“Like someone has taken a jackhammer to my brain. Why are you here? I thought you were going out?” Mitch croaks, voice hoarse from disuse.

“Nah. It wouldn’t’ve been fun knowing you were here suffering while I was out. I bought you some Ibuprofen and some of that flavoured water you like, also some ginger tea because caffeine is not going to be good for your head and a couple of ice packs.”

A lump wells in Mitch’s throat at the thoughtfulness of his friend and tears well in his eyes.

“Hey, hey,” Scott coos, walking around the sofa. He picks Wyatt up and sets him on the floor, before sitting on the edge of the sofa, body turned into towards Mitch. Scott grabs one of his hands and gently places the other one on the side of Mitch’s face, wiping away the tears that have spilt. “Why are you crying, silly?” He giggles softly.

“No reason. Just, thank you.” Mitch sniffles and nuzzles into Scott’s hand.

“No need to thank me, baby. I wouldn’t be a very good friend if I didn’t help you out when you needed me to.”

“But you didn’t have to.”

Scott tilts his head and huffs in exasperation at Mitch’s arguing.

“Shut up. Come on, Melanie. Let’s get you into bed. You’ll be much more comfortable.”

Scott helps Mitch off the sofa, catching him when his legs give out underneath him. He grabs the blanket and bag with one hand, using the other one to steady Mitch as they walk along the hallway towards Mitch’s room.

Mitch strips out of his clothes until he’s left in his boxers and climbs into bed. Scott props his pillows up against the headboard and pulls the blankets up to Mitch’s chin, tucking them around him. He cracks one of the ice packs and wraps it in a towel before placing it against Mitch’s forehead. It relieves some of the pain instantly and Mitch smiles softly.

“Better?” Scott asks, leaning over the side of the bed and pressing a kiss to Mitch’s cheek.

“Much. Thank you.”

“Seriously, stop thanking me. You’re creeping me out,” Scott quips, winking at his friend. He moves away, heading towards the door when Mitch calls out.

“Wait. Can you sit with me? Just until I fall asleep.”

Scott turns and looks at him from the doorway, eyes soft and smile sweet. His blue eyes twinkle in the half-light coming through the curtains.

“Of course, babe. Let me just go and make sure the house is locked up and change into some pjs. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Considering it started out as the worst day ever, Mitch is pretty happy with the way it’s ending.

**Author's Note:**

> Social media links in bio.


End file.
